


To the moon and back

by Reader_India



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Purple butt plug, Rimming, Top Sam Winchester, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reader_India/pseuds/Reader_India
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wanna sit on your cock, little brother,” Dean drawls in a voice that's meant to send shivers down Sam’s body, “ride you to the moon and back.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the moon and back

**Author's Note:**

> Told from Sam's POV. My first time writing smut and quite nervous posting it. Also this is unbeta'ed so all mistakes are mine. Comments and/or kudos would be most welcome.
> 
> Disclaimer- I don't own Sam or Dean. There is no financial gain being made from this story.

“I wanna sit on your cock, little brother,” Dean drawls in a voice that's meant to send shivers down Sam’s body, “ride you to the moon and back.”

Sam barks out a laugh instead. Cheesy oneliners usually had that effect on him.

“Way to ruin the moment, bitch.” Dean works a fierce pout, trying his best to look put out. He’s straddling Sam’s lap on one of the queens in their shared motel room. They’re both naked from the waist down, cocks not quite touching, only the Fed shirts on their backs.

“Shut up jerk.” Sam counters, eyes fixed on where Dean’s lips are pressed together resembling ripe, juicy…whatever. He leans forward to complain. “Your mouth is obscene.” “I know.” Dean smirks. “Like ‘ripe, juicy summer berries’, right?” He’s even doing the stupid air quotes. Sam groans and pulls him into the most passionate kiss he can manage hoping to shut down that line of conversation.

When he was fifteen, he had composed a badly written sonnet singing paeans to the wonder that was Dean’s mouth. He lived in mortal shame for days thereafter but couldn’t bring himself to part with the piece of paper. Then Dean came upon it and proceeded to tease Sam mercilessly for two whole days by constantly putting phallic objects in his mouth, most memorably a coconut popsicle. They started fucking on the third day when Dean finally introduced his mouth to Sam’s enthralled dick. The bastard also took his mouth off just when Sam was about to come, making him promise never to try his hand at poetry again. Sam had choked out a yes before shooting his load all over Dean’s shocked face. Whenever his brother wanted to be even more of an ass than usual, he quoted from Sam’s lone poetic venture.

They’re working a case in this little Midwestern town on Dean’s favourite holiday. Once the fake Agents Tyler and Perry returned to the motel room after a long day of interrogating witnesses, Dean had jumped him. Much groping and clothes pulling later, here they were necking like horny schoolboys.

Dean gives him one last firm peck and shrugs off his crisp white oxford. Sam cheers inside because one, no more embarrassing sonnet quotes and two, naked Dean. He rakes his eyes over the familiar curves and planes. Dean is fit, but he isn’t gym rat fit. There’s a softness to his body in the give of his tummy and the slightly rounded shoulders. Sitting in a warm pile on Sam’s lap, he looks delicate somehow and so fucking gorgeous that Sam’s chest feels tight with emotions. “You’re beautiful, De.”

His brother accepts the compliment with as much grace as can be expected of him. “This is hardly the time to get sappy Sammy. I’d like to get fucked sometime soon, thank you very much. Dad raised us to be men of action, you know. Don’t disgrace us all with your woolgathering.” Sam starts to remove his shirt hastily before Dean gathers momentum for a full-fledged rant. He might enjoy having Sam’s cock in his ass but Dean was by no means the submissive in the relationship.

Dean leers gratifyingly when Sam’s done with the disrobing. “God bless egg-white omelets and nasty-ass smoothies.” He splays a palm possessively over Sam’s naked chest, flicking a nipple that has twisted into a hard, painful point. His other hand is working at his own ass. Sam assumes he’s stretching himself but he almost has a heart attack when Dean retrieves a purple butt plug and waves it under their noses triumphantly. The toy is shiny with lube and just the thought of Agent Tyler wearing it all day under his prim and proper suit drives Sam a little crazy. He is still spluttering when Dean positions himself and sinks down on Sam’s cock in one smooth move. Sam’s eyes nearly roll over in his head. Being inside Dean is like some religious experience. Sure, his cock appreciates the snug, velvety warmth, and all that friction. But what overwhelms him is the sense of connection he feels with his brother. His world is reduced to the two writhing bodies on a lumpy bed in the middle of nowhere.

Dean rides him punishingly slow, almost dancing on Sam’s cock and gasping words of praise and affection. “Sammy you feel so damn good inside me. Big and hard. Could stay forever like this.” “I wouldn’t mind.” Sam grits out, tightening his fingers on Dean’s waist. He thrusts his hips up to chase more of that wonderful pressure and loses track of the time. He doesn’t know if it has been minutes or hours since they started. Dean dirty talks his way through the whole thing. Then, he stops moving altogether and Sam could cry. But Dean’s whispering the best words ever now. “Hey shotgun,” he croons, “would you like to drive now?”

Sam surprises the both of them with his speed and co-ordination as he rearranges their bodies. Now flat on his back on the bed, Dean smiles cockily.  “Toppy sonuvabitch. Got me where you wanted huh?” Sam gives a sharp thrust in response. At the widening of Dean’s eyes, he smiles meanly. Prostate…right. Gripping the meat of Dean’s thighs, he sets a furious pace, pounding into the willing body under him.

Dean gives as good as he gets, tightening his channel and sneering at Sam, “Fuck me like you own me. Is that all you’ve got, _brother_?” In midst of their coupling, the word sounds like the most delicious profanity. His hips snap faster. Sam knows he’s getting too rough now but Dean has got him too worked up to really care at the moment. He can’t tear his eyes off Dean’s face, twisted in pleasurepain. The bedframe protests under the assault. That, combined with Sam’s occasional grunts and the squelch and slap of sex, is the only sound in the room now. Dean has gotten quiet which means that he’s close, so Sam takes him in his hand and strokes in time with his thrusts. One.. two..three..four. Dean arches his back off the bed and comes. Watching him fall apart pushes Sam over the edge. His orgasm hits so hard it knocks the breath out of his lungs and makes his vision go all spotty.

When the haze clears, he looks at Dean who opens his eyes and beams. “That was awesome, dude. Who taught you how to fuck like that? Oh right, it was this guy.” He points to himself. Sam rolls his eyes and pulls out carefully. Guilt swamps him when Dean’s smile vanishes. Ignoring the loud protests, Sam slithers down to check for anything torn or worse.

Dean’s hole is an angry red, swollen and tender looking. Sam’s relieved to note the absence of blood. But the sight of his cum trickling out of Dean’s body hits him with a fresh jolt of arousal. _What the hell_. Without thinking he lowers his face and places an open-mouthed kiss on the most intimate part of his lover’s body. Dean shudders and tries to squirm away. “Whaddya doin’?” “I am trying to kiss you Dean.” Sam can’t recognize his own voice it comes out so rough and desperate. “Down there?” Dean sounds small and unsure. Sam licks a stripe over the furrowed skin, tasting semen and lube with undertones of musk and sweat. It’s not a pleasant combination and he understands why some people have reservations about this particular sex act. Heck, in all their years of fucking, they’ve never tried this. Now, just the filthiness of the act gets to him. So he laps greedily at Dean’s skin, then switches to sucking, even pushing his tongue through the loosened ring of muscles. Dean goes wild above him as he pulls at his newly-erect cock and Sam has to pin his hips down on the bed. It vaguely registers to him that Dean is screaming ‘Please Sam please’ over and over again and there’re angry knocks on the wall from their next-door neighbours. He doubles his efforts and is rewarded with cum in his hair as Dean ejaculates in weak spurts. Sam grimaces- he’s gonna need a shower- and places his head on Dean’s belly.

There’re fingers in his hair tugging him upward so he goes. He’s already at half-mast but it can wait for a while.

“God Sammy you really are a sick freak.”

Sam stares at him incredulously. “You enjoyed it more than I did.”

“Yeah but you’re literally a kiss-ass now.” Dean is smug as ever.

 “Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean.”

Dean laughs at his face at that, calling him a sap, and Sam has to throw down the gauntlet.

“To the moon and back right?”, he challenges.

Dean pecks him on the forehead and agrees. “To the moon and back.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to all the lovely readers! May we all find and get to keep our loves.


End file.
